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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456368">The Song Remains the Same</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazysnakey/pseuds/crazysnakey'>crazysnakey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Great Gatsby Gift Exchange 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Character Death, Gen, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Talking, That’s mostly it, Wilson shows up a bit but it’s minor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:15:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazysnakey/pseuds/crazysnakey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick chooses to stay with Gatsby a little longer before leaving for his train, yet it doesn’t change a thing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nick Carraway &amp; Jay Gatsby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Great Gatsby Gift Exchange 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Song Remains the Same</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphic_satanist/gifts">sapphic_satanist</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Old sport, how about you stay for lunch too?”</p><p>Nick started to refuse, saying that he couldn’t and had to catch his train for work, but paused for a moment to think. He’d already had breakfast at Gatsby’s and skipped the morning train - at this point, even if he came in for work by the afternoon train, the day would be over. All he’d do is lay about in his home, reading and drinking tea. The mental image of that, while relaxing, felt boring compared to the alternative. </p><p>“Yes, I suppose I could.” he said. He made sure to set his watch to ring an alarm at 5:30 PM in case he lost track of time.</p><p>Gatsby smiled, again that bright smile of his that enraptured Nick the first time he met him. The smile that was genuine, even when everything else about Gatsby was not. Though, was it just him or was there a trace of… gratitude in that smile? </p><p>Then again, that also made sense, considering… literally everything.</p><p>With a sigh, he strode over to the table and sat into the chair adjacent from Gatsby’s.</p><p>“So, what would you like for lunch, old sport? Anything you want, I’ll have my chefs make for you.”</p><p><em> Still with that habit of pleasing the people around you, huh, Gatsby? </em>“Oh, um…” Deciding to just go with the first thing that came to mind, Nick said, “Just something simple, perhaps some chicken and vegetables?” </p><p>
  <em> Why did that sound more like a question than an answer? </em>
</p><p>Gatsby raised an eyebrow at him. “Still far too modest, you are. This may perhaps be the last time we see each other for a while, and I’ll only have the best for you. Pierre!” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and at an instant one of the waiters stood by his side. “Tell Friar to roast up the best chicken and vegetables and to cook a plate of salmon for me. Tell him to make sure he does his absolute best on these plates, got that?”</p><p>“Understood, Mr. Gatsby.” With a nod, the waiter promptly disappeared inside.</p><p>As they waited for their plates, the two chattered about anything they could think of, even nonsensical thoughts. Gastby swam about his pool while he spoke with Nick.</p><p>But it was obvious to the both of them that they were avoiding the “elephant in the room”, so to speak. Nick didn’t want to pop that bubble and possibly ruin things - but Gatsby ended up doing that himself when he asked him out of the blue: “You think she’ll call today?”</p><p>They both knew who the “she” was.</p><p>And while Gatsby was probably expecting Nick to say yes, the truth was that after the debacle at the hotel, and the incident with Myrtle, Nick wasn’t sure of that anymore. Daisy had made her decision back at the hotel when she turned to Tom instead of Gatsby, yet Gatsby still clung to her. He’d chased her and held on to his memory of her for so long, and now that they’d reached this point, beyond anything they had expected and no going back, Gatsby couldn’t let go of her, not after his five-year long crusade. </p><p>And Nick pitied him for it.</p><p>He’d never tell Gatsby, but the whole thing was a sad mess, if he was being honest. And he was. Nick knew Daisy, and Daisy, for as long as he had known her, had always wanted security and stability. And Tom, for all his arrogance and bluster, was that for Daisy. He was untouchable. Tom had affair after affair and incident after incident and yet even all that had had no social effect on him or Daisy. Maybe personal, but who was he to intervene in their marriage?</p><p>Nick pointedly ignored the mental reminder that he had done just that by bringing Daisy and Gatsby together under the pretense of tea at his very home. </p><p>Simply put, Daisy valued stability and security, and Gatsby was, from the newspapers and rumors, the opposite of that. A man shrouded in mystery, and constantly speculated and talked about, a man whose house was open to all sorts of people, suspected to be in shady deals and crimework, would never give her peace or comfort, no matter how accommodating. </p><p>Daisy… she probably wouldn’t go with Gatsby. If she did call… Nick doubted that too. Daisy didn’t like confrontations - she avoided tense and heavy situations, and refusing to go with Gatsby could lead to that. Most likely, she would call, refuse to come, hang up and be on her way. And that was <em> if </em>she called. </p><p>But... </p><p>Nick did not want to tell Gatsby that. If he told him that, it would hurt him. Hurt him, but not enough to make him turn away. He was tethered to Daisy, trailing after her, and nothing but death would stop him now.</p><p>Wait, he had to say something! He’d been in his thoughts for a while and Gatsby was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.</p><p>Looking at him, Nick nodded. “I’m sure she will. Daisy isn’t one to leave things hanging if she can help it.”</p><p>Gatsby let out a small chuckle, reassured. He turned to look out across the bay, to where Nick knew the green light was still shining ever so brightly. But there was a faraway look in his eyes, one Nick did not like.</p><p>“Jay,” he said, drawing Gatsby’s attention back to him. “While I understand how you feel right now, thinking about it constantly won’t make Daisy call quicker. She’ll call you when she calls.” </p><p>Gatsby looked down, contemplating. “Y...yes, I suppose you’re right, old sport…”</p><p>“And you haven’t eaten your food.”</p><p>“Right... What would I do without you, old sport?” Gatsby hummed as he ate. </p><p>
  <em> For one, you probably wouldn’t even be stuck in this situation… </em>
</p><p>“So… how are your, um… business deals?” Nick really didn’t want to know about anything along those lines, but any of those were better than talking about Daisy or what had happened.</p><p>“Going well, old sport. Though when I go with Daisy I’ll have to put those on hold until the two of us can get settled.”</p><p>Nick’s eyes twitched. Here he was, trying not to bring up Daisy, yet she came up anyway. He ate a piece of chicken as he considered, then asked, “Well, what about the mansion, along with all the parties?” </p><p>“No need for those now. Those were to reunite with Daisy again, and now that I’ve done that, they have no use to me anymore. I may sell them, really. Besides, I don’t think Daisy would want to live in a house right across from where she used to live with Tom. Especially since everyone used to come here, to those parties she didn’t like.”</p><p><em> Again with Daisy… </em> Nick massaged his temples. <em> He’s obsessed. There’s no other way to put it. He’s obsessed with the memory of her he’s held on to these last five years. </em>He should have realized this already, from Gatsby buying a mansion and throwing all those extravagant parties, but everytime Gatsby over fixated on Daisy, Nick found himself caught by surprise and worried. It was concerning, and that was putting it mildly.</p><p>“Well, what about your staff? Your servants and cooks? What happens to them?”</p><p>“I’ll most likely lay them off. It’s not like I’m going to bring them along with me. Daisy doesn't like them - she didn’t want them along either. We’re going to go under the radar for this. I’m going to make sure Daisy has a grand old time traveling with me.” </p><p>Nick sweatdropped. <em> Again with Daisy… </em>Seriously, this might be the last time he’d see Gatsby, the last time they’d be together before he left. And yet...</p><p>Gatsby spoke again, pulling Nick from his thoughts. “Things will get better, just you see. And then it’ll be like we weren’t separated for five years. And what happened in the hotel - that was just a relapse from not being together for so long. Especially with Tom there. But just you wait and see, old sport."</p><p>Nick couldn’t take it anymore. “Jay, I understand you’re still holding onto Daisy, but don’t you think you’re getting a bit obsessive on this?”</p><p>Gatsby looked at him, confusion etched on his features. “What do you mean?”</p><p><em> Well, for one, chasing after her like this for five years. </em>“If Daisy comes, and you leave the country, what then?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘what then’? That’s it, old sport!”</p><p>“Jay, it’s not as simple as it seems for Daisy. This might be painful to hear, but I have to tell you before I leave just in case.” </p><p>“Tell me what?” Gatsby’s voice took on a dark, eerie quality. </p><p><em> Last chance to back out, Nick. Come on, don’t make things more difficult than they already–– </em>“It’s just, you know Daisy has a daughter, right? What will she do about that?”</p><p>“She-she can bring her along if she wants to!” Gatsby was getting defensive.</p><p>Nick cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner. “But you said you want to be with Daisy and start off like before. Wouldn’t a child get in the way of that? And Tom, too. You know how he is, he won’t stop.”</p><p>Gatsby shrugged. “Then we’ll find a way around it, together. What’s with you, old sport? You… Why are you saying these things? What prompted this?”</p><p>Nick thought of what he’d seen the night before - Daisy and Tom, hands clasped together, talking intimately, like they were conspiring together on something secret. He thought of how Gatsby had waited all night for a sign or signal from Daisy. How he’d take the blame for running Myrtle over. Of the grief on Wilson’s face.</p><p>He opened his mouth to tell Gatsby the truth - <em> “Daisy isn’t going to come with you.” </em>- but what came out instead was, “I just wanted you to be sure. I want you to be able to enjoy being with Daisy to the fullest.”</p><p>As quickly as Gatsby’s face had soured, he lit up again with one of those trademark radiant smiles of his. “Oh, is that all? That’s rather nice of you. I didn’t expect something like that all of a sudden from you, old sport.”</p><p>Nick shrugged. “You’ve come this far, haven’t you?”</p><p>The rest of the conversation was silent as they ate. It was a strange sort of silence - one that felt both awkward and comforting. </p><p>When they’d finished eating, they merely sat in silence. It was clear both of them wanted to say something, but didn’t want to be the first to break the silence.</p><p>Gatsby turned to Nick. “Old spor–”</p><p>“Shall I take the plates, Mr. Gatsby?”</p><p>They both startled and looked up to see the waiter from earlier. </p><p>“Ah- erm- yes, yes, go ahead.” Gatsby nodded. He seemed frazzled somehow. Was it their earlier conversation?</p><p>Nick looked out to the bay. The sun was just barely touching the ocean’s surface from his view. It was already nearly evening - he’d have to leave soon for the next train, so he could at least get home by nightfall for work tomorrow. </p><p>“Jay–”</p><p>“Old sport–”</p><p>They both froze, staring at each other. </p><p>Nick motioned towards Gatsby. “What were you saying?”</p><p>Gatsby shook his head. “No, no, old sport. You can go first, really.”</p><p>Nick raised an eyebrow but decided against prolonging this. “I just want to tell you that–”</p><p>BEEP!</p><p>Again they both jumped in their chairs, startled for the second time in five minutes. Nick hurriedly looked to his arm to see his watch beeping, signifying it was time to leave for his train.</p><p>“Old sport?” He looked up at Gatsby. “What is it?”</p><p>“Oh, um… An alarm I set earlier for my train.”</p><p>“I see… So you’ll be leaving now, old sport?”</p><p>“Yes.” Nick stood up. “Thank you for the food, it was delicious.”</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>Why had everything gotten so awkward now, at the end of it?</p><p>Nick walked towards the front door, before pausing and turning back to face Gatsby. “Jay!”</p><p>The other looked at him curiously. </p><p>“I just wanted to tell you,” Nick called out. “That they’re a rotten crowd, these people. You’re worth more than the whole lot of them put together, and don’t you forget that!”</p><p>Gatsby blinked, and then his face split into a wide smile, somehow even bigger and brighter than before. He held a hand up in goodbye, nodding. </p><p>Nick smiled, and turned to leave.</p><p>Neither of them noticed the man in the bushes.</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>As he walked out the front doors toward the gates, Nick was thinking of which books to take along with him when–</p><p>BANG.</p><p>A gunshot rang through the air.</p><p>Nick froze. What was that? Was that an actual gunshot? But why? Had it come from behind, in Gatsby’s mansion? No, that made no sense, he must have been imagining things–</p><p>BANG!</p><p>A second gunshot rang through the air, and Nick knew it was no illusion. Before he knew it, he was running back through the mansion to the pool, his legs burning with the sudden movement. What happened? Was it Jay? Was he alright?</p><p>When he arrived onto the scene, Nick found that he wasn’t alone. A few servants had come to see what was going on, and had crowded around the pool. Fearing the worst, Nick pushed past them to see what they were looking at.</p><p>
  <em> Please don’t be– NO!!! </em>
</p><p>Oh god. Oh no. No no no.</p><p>Floating in the pool peacefully, almost as if he were asleep, was Gatsby. Nick would have thought him asleep if it wasn’t for the ever-growing puddle of blood around him in the pool. One servant had already pulled him to the edge of the pool and was looking him over.</p><p>“Is he dead?” They looked up when Nick spoke. “Or can we still save him?”</p><p>The servant put two fingers to Gatsby‘s neck and waited a long moment, before slowly looking up to Nick and shaking his head sadly.</p><p>Nick’s eyes widened. Gatsby was dead. Just like that. The man who had seemed larger than life, a fire, had been extinguished in mere seconds.</p><p>Why, it had only been five minutes ago when he’d said goodbye and seen Gatsby alive and now he lay in a pool of his own blood.</p><p>“How did this happen?” Nick asked quietly, trying to hold back his tears.</p><p>“W-well, Mr. Carraway,” began one of the servants. “Mr. Gatsby was just swimming about, when a gunshot rang out of nowhere. Then he just went limp, and… started bleeding all over. We came quick to see what happened, and then another gunshot rang out. That one didn’t hit any of us, though.”</p><p>“Then who did it hit?”</p><p>The servant turned and pointed to the bushes. Nick got up and walked across to see. After what had just happened, he didn’t think anything else could surprise him. Already he was feeling numb from the last few minutes. But the sight in the bushes still shocked him.</p><p>Why, it was Wilson! Wilson from the gas station! What on Earth…? </p><p>His gaze trailed down to the pistol in his hand and the puddle of blood around his skull. He was already dead.</p><p>
  <em> That must have been the second gunshot I heard…  </em>
</p><p>But it made no sense. Why would Wilson want anything with Gatsby? Last Nick had seen him, he’d been mourning over his wife from when the yellow car—</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Nick rubbed at his eyes as all the puzzle pieces fell into place. And his thoughts turned to Daisy. Daisy, who still hadn’t called Gatsby. Daisy, who was hiding away with Tom. Daisy, who had been the one to run Myrtle over with the car and let Gatsby take the blame for it, which he paid for by dying.</p><p>Gatsby had died never getting the call from Daisy that he’d been waiting for, for something that wasn’t his fault.</p><p>And Wilson had shot him thinking he killed his wife, that he was the one having an affair with Myrtle, and then went and killed himself afterwards.</p><p>What a sad, sorry mess this was.</p><p>Damn. Now they’d have to have a funeral, and deal with the mansion and Gatsby’s things. Nick would also have to break the news to Daisy. She’d have to come to the funeral too. It was the least she could do now. He wondered how she’d react.</p><p>Nick couldn’t feel anything. His emotions being buried under all the thoughts of what would happen and what would have to be done. He was thinking of so many things, yet he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. It was like his body was full of lead, like there were glass shards lodged in his throat. </p><p>Distantly, Nick realized that he’d missed his train.</p>
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